Story of a Rose
by Fell moon Chronicler
Summary: A boy dies in our world and is, by a new loophole in death's handbook, sent to the world of twelve and then is reincarnated as a strange female Sadida
1. Rain and Ash

**So, I recently started playing a game, (Krosmaga) which lead me to another, (Wakfu) and this show, (Also Wakfu) obviously you should know that both games, and the anime I'm obviously talking about were not made, or owned by me. I know for a fact that two of them were made by Ankama, and I'm just too lazy to check on the third one at the moment, but i know by a later chapter. I do however, own my oc, and any changes I make to the story that you will see. Also, I'm an American, and I don't speak French, as cool a language as it is, so I will be using the names from the English dubbing of the anime, I didn't even know there was a difference until I saw a small comic strip on bing image search, E.G. Percedal, to Tristepin. So any time you see a name that isn't one you're familiar with from the subbed version, and it isn't just a spelling error or an OC, you now know why. And for those of you like me that watched the Dubbed version, well, you should be fine with this so… on with the Fic.**

 _ **Earth, American Street of unknown state and town (Because I can do that.) 2017**_

A boy of seventeen tromped down the sidewalk on his way to his house, his head ducked to use his dark blonde hair as a shield against the driving rain for his glasses. On his back, held by a single strap with the other dangling limply in the air, is a brown backpack, bulging and heavy.

Climbing the old uneven stone steps to the front door of his family's home, the boy fished in his jeans pocket for his house keys. Slotting the key into the lock and twisting sharply of lock and knob, the teenager swings the dark blue door open and tosses his school bag off to the right, walking through the living room and into the kitchen. Approaching the refrigerator to grab himself an after school snack, he notices an orange sheet of paper taped to the front.

 _Gone shopping._

 _Be home by 9._

 _Leftovers for dinner_

 _Brother and Sister are with us_

 _Do your homework and be ready to help with_

 _groceries when we get home._

The boy moves on from the note and grabs a lime yogurt from the fridge. Grabbing a spoon from a drawer, he makes his way back out to the living room and turns on the TV.

 **A while later. First person point a view.**

*Cough Cough*

I jerk awake to a burning dryness in my throat and eyes, blearily I sweep my eyes around the darkened room, smelling smoke through a mostly plugged nose.

'Did I burn something? But I don't remember turning on the stove, must be that damn heater.' I sleepily puzzle out, standing and turning to the heater in question. Or at least that is the plan, dark swims before my eyes and my legs crumple like wet cardboard when I lift myself from the couch leaving me sprawled on the floor. What must be a few seconds later, I feel a dull throb in my head and left hand. 'Must have landed badly'. I shake my head to clear it of its foggy state, but regret it as a new throb races down my spine from above my eyes. I bring my hands up to my forehead to massage away the pain but am shocked fully awake by pain in my left hand. My eyes clear as I look at the blistered dark red skin now covering my right hand.

I look beyond my scorched digits and see a blob of orange flame by the front door, a tower of black smoke billowing up from its crown as another cough climbs my trachea. 'FIre? I stand. Coughing, I look for something to put it out. 'The sink.' I spin around. 'Where's the door?' Spin again. "Where's the door?" Black smoke, orange light. My hand stings at the heat. I take a step, stumbling against something at knee height. I spin again. Orange light. Hot air. Another step, kicking something hard. Again. The walls turn orange. Again, 'A hole!' I sprint at the gap in the fire. PAIN! Something smashes into my knees and the ground rushes to meet me. Orange wraps around me. My lungs fill with hot gas. Roll, moving a bit away from the fire. My glasses clatter off my face. I stand. My knees wobble. Stumble. My hand reaches out for something to brace on. My foot catches something. I fall. Black.

All at once, the noise of flames stop, as does the pain in my hand, the ache in my lungs, and the heat of the house. I crack my eyes open, to see a strange freeze frame of my last sight, the smoke still, the flames a bizarre and fantastic sculpture. I sti up, with no effort, no shakiness, and a strange clarity of mind. Glancing around the room, i see a similar sight in all directions.

The burgundy curtains are decorated now by sharp tongues of orange, and crowned with a black cotton trim. The couch now serving as a resting place to black twists of what must have been paper at one point, paused mid motion. My gaze provided me with nothing but a morbid image of the moment I died. "This can't be the afterlife right? Living in the exact second of your death, looking at the scene." I mumble, standing up and trying to leave the site. But finding my feet wouldn't leave the spot on which they rest. "Stuck to spot of my death, with the image of my burned house. Hell no, no i refuse to spend any time like this." I declare, struggling with my feet to free myself from the spot. But out of the corner of my eye, I see motion.

My whole body, even my previously obstinate feet turns to face the shift in the frozen background. Out of the smoke, stepps a seven foot tall slender figure with an ash white face, a black clipboard clasped in long white fingers. "Dunstin Locklan. Born November 8, 2000, date of death, ah, and therein lies the issue, according to our files, you were supposed to live for quite some time further. Hmm, what to do about this…" The figure drawls out in a bored but professional tone,

"Um, who are you?" I ask. My voice feeling small.

The figure pulls out a thick, grey book from beneath their cloak and flips it open, paging through it with practiced ease "Hmm, section 389 states that once dead, you can't be brought back, by agents assistance, so I can't just undo this, unless…" The figure drops the book, which continues to stay right where it had been held, as they reach into one of the sleeves of their robe and pull out a small black phone. Dialing quickly, they hold the device under their hood and wait a few seconds before speaking again. "Hey, Darius, do could we get a few hour reset over in section 89?" A few seconds later. "Really, when did they set that rule?" A few more. "Huh, well I guess that makes sense, okay thanks for your _time_." The figure smirks like they had told a really bad joke. "I'm sorry, it had to be done, anyway, say hi to the missus for me and tell my goddaughter I'll be there for her birthday. Yeah, thanks man, bye." They slip the phone back into their sleeve and grab the book once more. "Well, that idea's a bust, so…" They fall silent for a time, flipping through the pages of the book quickly, and i swear some of them split and multiply, because even at the speed their flipping through the book, they get no closer to the end. "Aha! This one is perfect, '...the event that the soul is killed fifty or more years before their time without malice or suicide playing a part in the death…' yep, that will do nicely." They snap the book shut, the sound echoing strangely in the silent house "Well kid, I'm sure you have tons of questions, but I don't have a lot of time left on my shift and there are still a few dozen deaths on my quota today, not like any explanation will help anyway, so i'm just gunna…" With that, the figure made a dismissive gesture and I feel myself falling suddenly.

* * *

I feel solid ground beneath my feet, as a long hallway stretches on before me, six doors on either side of the hall. I blink once, twice, and a third time, holding my eyes closed as my mind swirls with the past… who knows how long since my own death.

…

…

…

"Im dead." I realize, my stomach dropping like a rock. I fall to my knees as the weight of the situation crashes down on me. I'll never see my friends, family, Oh god, my family just lost their house. Years of their lives just went up in smoke 'So did you.' I niggling voice in the back of my head reminds me, starting the process over. "And now i'm… Where the hell am I?" I moan. Finding something to distract myself, I stand sharply and start examining my new surroundings. The floor is polished marble with a waving black and white pattern running the length of the hall. At either end of the hall is a great bonfire behind a thick grate that does nothing to ease my discomfort. Each of the doors is the same height, being just above head level, but each is very different. One is white with red swords crossed over it, another is a blue grey with cogs grinding together stutteringly, another is covered in barbed wire and blood, won't be going through that one, and yet another is covered in skulls and bones… the fires at either end of the hall belch flame, the one ahead of me belching flame to the left of me and making me stumble back and through one of the doors, this one smelling of loam and baring a vine pattern on it.

Images flash past me.

Woods

Tribal Masks

A colossal tree

Voodoo dolls with smiling faces, one wearing a mask pats me on the head

A Tall figure standing on one leg with an oval mask on its face pears at me before nodding and places a few seeds on me before shooing me on my way.

Then darkness falls around me, and a comforting warmth surrounds me.

Time passes, i'm sure it does, but I just contently rest in the warm darkness around me. Then the warmth presses against me, shoving me forward painfully.

Light, cold bright light beats down on me, making me want to shrink in on myself and disappear.

Blurry forms move around me as muffled sounds become words.

"It's a Girl!" a voice proclaims happily.

Wait, WHAT!

 **Okay readers, if you've made it this far I commend and thank you. So, having glanced at the wiki's I have taken a few liberties to make the world less like that of an mmo, so a few things may be strange. Um, Im hoping you like what I've done, and yes, this character will be a bit different then most of their race, and that twist at the end. Heh, heh, yep I made a dude turn into a girl, partly because I hate how the male Sadida look, partly because the plot bunnies made me. And unrelated, when I was writing the fire death scene, pandora decided to play the Misty mountain song from the hobbit, "The trees like torches…" hah, and then My time of Dying by Three days Grace, well, guess pandora agreed with the death I had decided for my character. Anyway, Rate, Review, follow, do whatever, just give me a sign that i'm not writing into a dead fandom, cus I dont know if anyone actually is going to read this.**


	2. Dolls and Flowers

**So, it's come to the point where posting a story at midnight, you can still get a review before you get up the next day. That feels good. Also, that tells me that the fandom is very much alive. Like I said Last time, I own none of Ankama's property, I'm just playing with it.**

 **Also, Jaguarian76, go for it, I will do nothing to inhibit the creativity of another, wish I could read french to read your story. :)**

I spent the next three days on auto pilot, letting my new body make all the decisions as my mind reeled with what had transpired. First, I die in a house fire. Not a thought you're even supposed to be able to have, cus, you know, the whole "dead" part. But that's not even where it gets weird. What I can only believe to be a manifestation of Death walks into my living room, starts babbling about rules, _calls someone on the fricking phone_ , before apparently sending me off to be reborn, with as far as I can tell, all my memories intact. Now normally that would be cool, and I would start making plans with my previous knowledge. But that plan kind of went out the window when I TURNED INTO A GIRL!

What the hell do I do with that. I mean, I remember being a guy for over a decade, I remember sex ed. Now I have to be stuck on the other end of it. I still like girls, even though I am one… Oh, my brain can't handle this yet,

On the third day of my new life, I decide to learn about where I am, with what skills I can still use, so really just ears and eyes at the moment. A glance around the room gives me some confusing insights. The windows are just round holes in the knotted wooden walls with, what, broad green leaves growing right out of the top. The shelves are all sunken into the ivy covered walls, with knots of wood on either side as book ends. And the weirdest part of this is that I swear I've seen my mother, in a green bikini of all things, petting the walls, green lights trailing her fingers. And this one has me losing sleep, my mother set a tan homemade doll near me in my crib one day, and when I crawled over to the other side of the crib, to get a better look at a flower that appeared on the wall at my mother's departure, I heard a soft humming noise and a muffled flump sound. I turned around and saw that the doll was now within arm's reach of me, and standing up. My screams brought my mother running back into the room and sent the doll scurrying back in shock, a quite shout of surprise spitting it's sewn mouth in a close facsimile of a sneer that brought instinctual tears to my infant eyes. My mother had had to rock me to sleep five times that night, as each time my eyes would close I would see the doll, and my memories of chucky and other cursed dolls mixed in with it, causing it to laugh maniacally, or rush at me with various sharp implements.

It took me a week to trust anything my mother placed in my crib again, but I still catch that doll hiding in corners of the room it thinks i'm not looking at. My ears haven't really provided me any better clues, birds chirping, animals making various noises, sounds like a good portion of the planet honestly. So I try paying special attention to words I hear my mother say when some of her female friends show up, also in green bikinis, because that makes sense. I heard only a few bits of information that felt important. There was a princess born a few days after me, that my parents hope I can become good friends with, that my father will be coming home before the week is out, and that apparently my red hair is making people talk. Well, I guess that makes sense, red hair is a bit strange with darker skin, which I am now in possession of. But the first bit of information has got my attention. 'So where ever I am, it seems to have a monarchy, dark skinned people, and a moderate lack of clothing.' Sadly, I have never personally heard of any place on earth that meets that criteria. I'm sure someone else would know, but I'm stumped.

The week passed by without any new information, or happenings of import, save that the doll stopped trying to hide from me, but still kept its distance; something I am in no hurry to change. But then I got a look at who I assume my father to be in this life. A well built man with a pair of green shorts that looked like a bunch of leaves held together with brown thread, a pair of what look like leafy anklets, and a doll like my watcher hanging at his hip, a small buckler on his right arm with a handful of skull topped needles poking out of it. And the feature that struck me as the most prevalent, was his whole head being covered in thick green hair, emerald dreadlocks pulled back by a brown hair tie, and a huge goofy grin plastered on his fluffy face.

I tried, I really did, but as he reached down and picked me up, holding me up to his face and making cooing noises at me. My face broke clean in half as body shaking laughs erupted from my small frame. He looked startled at first, but quickly hugged me close and joined me in my laughter, though he probably had no clue we were currently laughing at him.

I turn to my mother as she enters the room a moment later, likely drawn in by the sound of her quiet daughter making such loud noises of mirth. "By Sadida, what's gotten into our little Rose?" my mother asks in her pretty,motherly voice that chases away all the monsters. I know that sounds cheesy, shut up, mental conditioning and instinctual imprinting. "I'm not sure, I just picked her up, and she started like this." My father said in a deep carrying voice. In the meantime I'm mulling over what my mother had said, not about my name, Ive pretty much come to accept the name Rosalee, or Rose as she has taken to calling me on account of my vibrant red hair. No, I'm focusing on the word Sadida, it struck two cords in me, one being a memory, of a girl saying that, not to me, more like I had heard it while walking past her. But the other, was some deep, essential feeling within me. Like an instinct but more, well more.

I hear a pair of gasps, one light and one low. I look between my parents to see their eyes glued to a spot above my eyes. I reach up to my hair, my arms swinging up in a way that more developed muscles aren't able to replicate. Upon my head I feel my usual soft, very short hair. But then something catches my seeking fingers. About the size of my baby palm, and sticking out of my hair by a small straight stick. I grab the new shape, pulling it from my hair with just a ghost of effort, and brought it to my face to look at. Clenched in my clumsy, pudgy fingers is a small, pale purple lotus flower, halfway between a bud and open. I stare at the flower for a few moments before bringing it to my nose and breathing deeply of the pleasant scent. My mind goes blank as an almost voice lulls me to sleep, while my parents discuss between themselves in hushed tones, my father clenching me to his side tightly as a vague feeling of moving brushes at my slowing mind.

 _A big open space like a main hall of a castle stretches out around me figures clad in leaves with green hair bustle about beneath me as I realize I'm suspended in the air, looking down at a leafy throne in the middle of a small pool. The throne currently sits open, as the important looking man with some kind of head ornament I assume to be a crown and a big green beard is sitting at the side of a woman's bed. The woman has long green hair and an elegant dress that looks like an orange and cream full body flower. A boy with a green hairy face and orange and grey shorts sitting in a chair nearby. A small green bundle at her chest. While I know they are speaking, I can see their lips moving, the sounds are muffled beyond understanding. The woman shifts the bundle and I see that it is a small child with a tuft of green hair poking out of the swadling bundle. The child appears to be asleep. A low humming draws my attention away from the probable royal family to see a dark brown doll of probably one foot tall with a few wild wire like hairs sticking out the top of its head, three of them tipped with red leaves. The doll looks at me with its big pupiless white eyes and I get a feeling like a question. "Who are you?" I ask the small doll, for some reason not scared of it like the one in my house. Suddenly the throne room zips out of sight and I'm standing before a small rune covered tree, well, I say small but it's still likely ten, or even twelve feet tall. A gazebo like structure beside the tree. The doll steps out of the tree onto the porch. "You're the tree?" I ask while pointing at the gnarled vegetation in question. The doll nods and I find myself in the throne room again. "Why do you want to talk to me, and how am I here?" I question, realizing I'm asking a lot of questions to a small brown doll that hasn't said a word in return. I get no reply. The doll just points at the doors to the room. I glance at them and when I look back, the doll has vanished, so I look back to the doors as they burst open, and my parents rush in, my father still carrying me._

 _The king looks away from his wife and young child to see my parents standing next to a pair of guards, pleading to see the king. I try to get closer to my parents and am gladly surprised when I float toward them. My mother looks worried, my father has a look of confusion on his furry face, and my body is asleep with a happy smile. The hood of a swadling bundle pulled over my head. "Guards, you can let them pass." A strong male voice says from somewhere behind me. My parents quickly brush passed the guards and toward the king now seated in the throne._

" _King Sheran, something strange has happened to our daughter, and we seek your wisdom in this matter." My father says, going to one knee, myself still tucked into his arm._

" _Is that the girl in your arm Urden?" The king asks._

 _My father nods. "Yes your highness, I wanted to show you what we had seen so you could understand our confusion." My father said while drawing back the hood from my head. My eyes, or my ghostly eyes or whatever I'm looking through right now, widen at the sight of the numerous flowers in my hair. Roses, a few daisies, more lotus, a few snapdragons and even a bleeding heart all sprouting from my now three inch long red hair, with more flowers popping up before my gaze._

" _Ah, now there is a rare sight. Worry not Urden, Lissia, your daughter has been blessed by the god Sadida. Likely while her soul was traveling to its new body. She must have done something to garner his favour in her past life. There is no cause for alarm." The king said, a reassuring smile on his face, drawing smiles of relief and gratitude from my parents._

" _Thank you your majesty." My parents happily chorus. "Praise to you Great Sadida." My parents say while looking toward the air._

" _If I may ask your majesty." My mother says, stepping beside my now standing father. "How are the Queen and young princess faring?"_

" _They are both well, thank you for asking Lissia." The king replies with a proud smile. "She will be happy to know her lady in waiting is thinking of her, even having just recently had a child herself."_

 _My mother smiles, and her eyes glitter. "I look forward to serving her again my king. And hope our Little Rose will share such sentiment about your daughter." My mother replies before bowing._

" _Now that your worries are assuaged, return home, and put the little one to bed. She will need her health if that is to come to pass." The king says with a laugh in his voice._

 _My parents bow again before calmly walking out of the room. My vision darkens as my ghostly eyes close. Before they close fully, I see the Masked figure that gave me seeds looking at me, the small brown doll sitting on his bent knee, a sense of approval emanating from both of them._

 **So, that is the second chapter of Story of a Rose. What do you all think, I may not be able to keep this update speed up, what with having to do things in the real world, but I will try. Any questions, comments, concerns, or even suggestions can be put into a review. And I will try to respond to them. Also, it may take a few chappies to get to the Anime, but, hopefully I can make the wait enjoyable. This is Fell Moon Chronicler, signing off for the night.**


	3. Training and Dreams

**Hello again my viewers, all (28 at time of writing this) of you. First off, I honestly never thought this story would do well at all, and it is nice to see that some people in this fandom actually like this story.**

 **Merendinoemiliano your review gave me hope that I'm not royally screwing up, for which I thank you sir or madam. But you seem to have forgotten one thing about the character, which I put in the first couple paragraphs of the second chapter, this is in response to your anticipation in the later part of the review, just as a hint to you. For every one that has no clue what I'm talking about, well, you should try harder :P.**

 **As stated in previous chapters I own none of what you're reading, just planted a new oc in the midst of it.**

Time after my informal meeting of the royal family passed by quickly. Before I knew it, my first birthday had come and gone. My parents had given me a doll like their own. I kept feeling a small pull from the doll as it sat in my crib, which worried me slightly, until one day it just felt like a natural part of my surroundings and I, for lack of a better word, sensed the doll near me. It felt like me now, and I found myself calm and even a bit happy to have it near me. After this revelation, the doll that had been hiding in the periphery for all this time tried again to stand close to me. As I between the bars of my crib at the doll, I saw that it had a look of worry on its face, its simple hands behind its back. Looking at the doll, I felt my mother standing there and understood, by looking back at my own doll, that this one was part of my mother. I held my hand out from between the bars, reaching my tiny fingers out to the doll. Its face softened into one of happiness as it moved one of its arms out to meet my hand. The small limb was soft, and squishy like a doll hand should be.

From that day, the doll sat on the top of my crib, or would tuck my blanket closer when my wiggling moved it. And each time I saw my mother from then on, she seemed happier, like a weight had been removed from her shoulders.

My parents found it funny that they kept having to remove flowers from my crib. I apparently grew them in my sleep, both from my body and from my doll, as I must have caused some kind of link between the two of us. Even some of the floor around me started to bloom, which lead me to find that the floor was part of a living tree. Just another strange piece of the puzzle that lead me to an important discovery. It probably should have been obvious to me sooner, but I blame my rapid string of surprising occurrences for my obliviousness. I'm not on Earth. I don't think i'm even in the same universe. And I think this one has magic.

That thought floored me. How many dream of magic in my old world. Now i'm in a world where dolls can move, and souls change bodies after death. Where gods bless people with powers, and that's just what I've seen who knows what else might be possible in this world.

With this line of thinking in mind, I started trying to figure out what I can do. Whenever my mom, and her doll, were not around; I would try focusing my mind and finding the energy inside me that is letting me grow flowers everywhere, because what else could I look for? It took me most of a month to find, because there wasn't that many times where my mother's doll wasn't around to watch me, but I did eventually find the energy. And when I did, i noticed that it felt like the world around me, but like it was cycling out of sync with with world outside. So I tried to match it up with the flow of energy around me, and suddenly everything felt clear. I could feel something like a pulse flowing through my home, into the ground and mixing with other pulses. I could feel small pulses moving around, in the house, out on the street. Tiny things sitting up high in a strong pulse. I could feel all the life around me I realized. The strong pulses were trees, my house was a tree. The smaller pulses were people, and the tiny ones must have been birds. I felt my mother's life moving toward my room and pulled back from the flow of energy, feeling my senses dull again and no longer feeling all the life around me. Then I greeted my mother with a happy noise as she and her doll entered the room and made their way to me, picking up _my_ doll and setting it closer to me, picking off a few vines and a clover mid motion. "Hows my little Rose garden today?" She asked, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. I look at her, trying not to slip back into the flow of energy, which is hard because it feels so nice to be connected to it.

The only reason I didn't want her to know about my new ability is I don't want to worry her. She and my father were surprised when I grew a flower in my hair, suddenly being able to sense all the life around me might just send them into a fit. Maybe my type of magic is not normal here, I've never seen mom do it after all, though I do know she, and likely my father, can animate their dolls.

Training in secret over the next two years, I learned to grow flowers, and a few other types of plants, on command instead of just when I'm not paying attention, and likely letting my energy slip out. I learned to move my doll around a little bit, this time I didn't worry about hiding it from my parents, they can do it to after all. I can't currently do much more then make it stumble around and hug things, but it's progress.

I started speaking in my second year, my first word was obviously "Momma" because they were expecting one of the two and she is around more. Now I toddle around after my mother whenever she is around, asking her all the questions I can so it's not as weird that I know things, like colors and words, though the new name for birds being Tofu was a bit strange. Speaking of strange, I for some reason, have had no issue recalling my previous life, all the people I'd talked to, songs I'd heard, heck even games I'd played and shows I'd watched. If I remembered it when I died, I remember it now. Sadly, that includes dieing in a house fire. More than a few times these past two years, I have woken up screaming as my dreams become choked with smoke and set ablaze, then one of my parents would be forced to come hold me for a few minutes as the memory would fade. Lately I've been trying to find solace in the flow of the world. Feeling all the life around me in a slow harmony of sleep has been able to help me to relax.

Tonight I've decided to try to connect to the world before falling asleep in hopes of staving off the nightmares.

 _I open my eyes to find myself still in my room in my tree home. I spin around and find my body sleeping peacefully, hugging my doll as it hugs back, both of us glowing a soft green with wisps of energy circling us, leafy vines growing in their wake, wrapping me in a green cocoon under the blanket. I've been moved out of my crib and into a single bed. I float out of my room, remembering how to maneuver do to my last experience. My new main room is the dining and kitchen area, Mom only serves vegetables and bread which is fine by me as I was picky about what I ate when I knew what the animals were. My parent's bedroom is currently occupied, and I have no intention of silently, invisibly floating into that room. I turn my attention to the front door and soon find myself floating above the cobbled street. Something draws my attention, and my incorporeal form, toward the royal home, a colossal tree that I know houses an even grander, if smaller, tree. The pulse running through the land seemed to coalesce at the heart of the tree, and swept me along with it. Passed the grand room housing the throne. Through a pair of thick doors, and over a lake and to the gazebo like structure beside the runic tree. What I saw there surprised me, floating around the lake in wonder was a small girl in a cream colored shirt with a wide flower in her hair, green shorts covering her lower half._

 _I float toward the girl, wondering if she will be able to see me as well. "Hello?" I call out, at least I think I do, hard to tell as an ethereal being. The girl seems to stumble mid flight and twists around to see me._

" _Who awe you?" The girl called back, floating closer to me like she was swimming. As she nears I notice that her eyes are a caramel brown._

" _I'm Rosalee Hemlock. What's your name?" I reply, folding my legs into a sitting position._

" _How did you get in my house?" The girl asks, putting her hands on her hips._

" _This is your house? Are you part of the royal family?" I ask._

" _You didn't answor me." She reminds._

" _Oh, sorry, I was just going to sleep but didn't want to have nightmares, so I listened to the energy of the world, next thing I know I'm floating out of my house and into this place." I answer, trying not to upset the small girl._

" _Okay." She chirps in childish acceptance. "My name Amaweea Shewam Shawm." she says, her young voice stumbling over what I assume to be the letter "R"._

" _Nice to me you Amalia." I say, dipping my head because I'm pretty sure she is the young princess and getting on a royal's bad side seems stupid._

" _HI!" She says happily, floating closer to me and grabbing my hands, actually managing to drag me along as she floats around the lake. "Will you play with me?" She asks, sounding like a lonely little girl._

" _Um, sure, but what can we do?" I ask, not sure how one plays while being whatever we are at the moment._

" _Chase!" She declares, poking me in the arm and flying off, giggling all the while. I stay stationary for a moment, trying to catch up mentally to my situation, before flying after the girl like Superman._

 _We spend an hour or so flying around the lake and the tree, popping through walls to hide before being pulled back in by the flow of life. At length we end up sitting in the Gazebo, talking. "Where do you live?" She asks._

" _Just down the street, with my parents Lissia and Urden." I reply._

" _Ahh! Lissia is my mommy's Friend! You her Daughter ?" Amalia asks._

" _Yeah, I heard that my mom knows yours. She wants us to be friends to I heard."_

" _We re friends, you played with me today, no one else does at night, they all stay asleep." She says, pouting at the last part. "Woseawee? Why is your hair red?"_

" _I don't know, why do you ask?"_

" _Cus it's pretty. Everyone else has green hair, but yours looks like a flower."_

 _I laugh, "That's how I got my name. My mom said my hair reminds her of a rose, so she named me her little Rosalee."_

" _Can I call you Wosey, Wosawee is too hard to say?" she asks, pinching her lips together in what I assume to be frustration._

" _Yes you may princess. You may call me what you like. Friends give each other nicknames after all." I say, smiling at the tiny princess._

" _What's a nickname?" She asks._

" _Ah, a nickname is a special name you call someone when you know them, like a sign of your bond together." I explain._

" _How do you talk so good? You sound like a grown up?" Amalia asks, her eyebrows kntting together in question._

" _Uhh… Im not sure how to answer your question princess, I'm sorry." I say, fumbling with her question._

" _Why are you sorry, if you don't know, you don't know." She says, matter of factly._

" _Okay princess." I say gratefully._

" _Do I get a nickname?" She asks, going back to our previous subject._

" _Do you want one?"_

" _Yeah, you said friends give nicknames, so I want one to Wosey." She says, bouncing up and down in her seat._

" _Hmm, what would be a good one." I think, putting my hand on my chin and getting a mischievous grin. "Well, I could call you Bernard, or Gerry, no one would expect those." I say jokingly, inwardly laughing at how her face scrunched up in disgust at the names. "Or I could call you Chuck, or Abagail, those are pretty nice names to." I continued, seeing her eyes turn hard in refusal._

" _No~o, I want a good one, like Rosey." She declares, putting her metaphorical foot down on the matter._

" _I'm sorry Malia, I was only joking." I say, holding my hands up in surrender._

" _Well it was a bad joke, those name were really bad and people would laugh at me fo… Did you call me Mawia?" She says, stopping mid rant to ask her question._

" _Yeah, I thought since you only took out the "al" sound from my name, I'd take the 'ah' sound from yours. Is it bad?" I say, ducking my head at my question._

" _No, I like it, it's cute." She says, smiling at her new nickname._

 _I felt myself being pulled back from the small girl by the flow of life. "Where are you going Rosey?" The now dubbed Malia asks, not noticing that she to is floating away._

" _I think we're waking up Malia, so I guess we'll have to keep playing some other time."_

" _But, but why now, we just started." She says, frowning._

" _It's okay Malia, we can see each other tomorrow night, I remember how I got here, I'll just do it again." I smile at her, waving as I pass through the wall to the throne room, seeing the first rays of sunlight just peeking through the windows._

 **POV change Amalia**

Rosey said we would pway again the next day, but I didn't have one of my fun dreams, just the normal ones, over and over again, and I began to miss my new friend. So one day, when my mommy's friend Lissia was over to help my Mommy, I walked up to her and pulled on her dress. "Princess Amalia, what can I do for you." The pretty woman asks, almost sitting down to not be so tall. "Can I play with Wosey?" I ask, playing with the bottom of my skirt.

"Who is Wosey honey?" Mommy asks, walking over to me and picking me up.

"Rosey is the red haired girl who played with me in one of my dreams." I say, cus sometimes you have to explain to grown ups.

"I think you may have imagined her sweety." Mommy says, wubbing my hair. But I see that Wissia knows who I mean.

"No, no, no Mommy, we met in the Twee of Wife's room, when we were asleep. We prayed chase and she said she was Wissia and Uwden's daughter." I saw, shaking my head at the silliness of Mommy. She looks away from me to Wissia, a confused look on her face.

"Lissia, do you know who this 'Wosey girl could be?" Mommy asks, Wissia.

"Well your highness, I do have a daughter named Rosalee, but I don't know how she could have met the princess." Wissia says back to Mommy.

That's hew name, Wosawee, but she says I can caw her Rosey cus hew name is too hard to say. I say, waving my hand in the aiw. "And I already told you. We played in our dreams, she floated to the Tree of Life and we played until we woke up, she said she would do it again the next day, but I keep having boring dreams, so I can't see hew." I explain again. Mommy looks at Lissia for a few moments. "Lissia, would you go bring your daughter here to see if they do know each other, it can't hurt after all. Even if it was just one of my daughter's prophetic dreams, at least they could meet now, and play together." Mommy said to Wissia. Wissia bowed to Mommy.

"Yes your highness." And with that Wissia left the room quickly. Mommy put me on the gwound and told me to go get my dow.

A long time later, Lissia came back with a small girl in hew arms. The girl was facing away from me with a doll in her own arms. But her hair was a pretty red, so I knew it was my friend. "ROSEY!" I scream happily, running from behind Mommy to meet my friend. The girl spins in Lissia's awms, showing her face to be covered with a happy smile like mine. "Mawia!" The she squeaks back, squirming out of Lissia's awms to the floor.

 **Hey guys, how was that. It took me all day to write this because I'm using google docs, and if your internet dies you can't type. Mix this with an internet that the provider only now fixed after two weeks of spottyness, and you have a very sporadic time to write. Anyway, I had fun writing the second part of the chapter, where Little Rosey meets princes Malia. And yes, I decided to give Amalia rather good speech understanding, she just has and Issue with "r" and "w". I would also give her problems with 'th', but im too lazy to go back and turn all of those into 'd's so you can add them in when you read it, or just say she is good with those sounds for some reason of your choosing. Anyway, it's late here, so i'm just going to post this and say that it will only be one or two more chappies until we get to Yugo's adventure. Cus I still have to cram ten years in between here and there. As most authors say Review, it gives us hope and motivation.**

 **(Edit So Im going back and making changes to the chapters already posted, I hope… and do to a very well written review, im getting rid of most of Amalia's speech impediment, as far as writing goes, but showing that Rosey' also has the issue, young vocal cords, no matter the knowledge behind them, will stumble, hell adults stumble all the time. But you dont have to suffer through the odd "w"s every where. You're welcome.**

 **I will try to have the next chapter out before christmas, if i fail in this endeavor, Merry christmas!)**


	4. Dresses and a Cra

**Time for chapter four of A story of a Rose. Sorry it took so long but my writer's ambition died a slow death. And I just hired a new one.**

Malia and I spent the rest of that day running around in whatever room the Queen allowed us into, with me trying to both not be a nuisance and look too young to be trying, I probably failed. Malia really wanted to go to the Tree of Life's room, but we had both been forbidden from that by our mothers respectively. But we found plenty to do, such as playing chase again, I even grew a flower in my hair to match her, which she found nice and hugged me for. When my mother and I went home that night she sat me down and we waited for my father to come home, then she asked how I could have met the princess in our dreams. I played with the idea of lying about my ability to sense and sync with the energy in the world. But both them being my parents, and Malia having met me in that semi-astral plane making me think maybe I'm not as strange as I thought. "Rosalee, Princess Amalia claims that the two of you played in the Tree of life's room a few nights ago in your dreams, how is this possible?" Mom asks.

I take a deep, fortifying breath. "I keep having nightmawes, but I w-like sleeping." I start, stumbling with my young vocal cords. "When I try, I can feel the world around me, the animals, plants, even the people, and it makes me feel better. I tried this before going to sleep that night. And then I was floating, and the world pulled me to the Tree of Life. Then I saw Malia floating around and said hi, then we were playing and talking and gave each other nicknames, then we woke up. I promised I would meet her then again the next day, but she was not there, and the tree didn't take me to its room again. So I didn't do anything those nights." I explained, trying to keep my speech as clear as possible.

"You can feel the world?" Dad asks. I scrunch up my face childishly (I hope) and try to find the words to explain.

"Not just the plants but the animals as well?" Mom clarifies. I nod.

"Dear, I think she's able to feel Wakfu." Mom says, and that one word floors me. Memories from Before rush into the forefront, a story about an adventure featuring an old man, a small boy in a blue hat, a redhead with a size changing sarcastic sword, a blond archer, and a green haired princess with the power to manipulate and commune with nature, and this show story was called Wakfu, a name shared with an mom, and sharing a lore with a card game called Krosmaga.*

"What a gift our little girl has, no doubt another blessing from the great Sadida." Father says proudly,but I hardly hear him, even when he lifts me up and hugs me I'm just lost in my realization. I autopilot through the rest of the night finding sleep to be a non issue as my distracted mind has no time to conjure up nightmares of anything.

The next couple years passed in a simple schedule. Go to the royal home with Mom, play with and help Malia as her lady in waiting and first friend, then go home, eat and practice my abilities, now without the trouble of hiding it from my parents, at least the parts that looked innocent to my mind, I didn't show my attempts to grow plants with any purpose in mind, to them I hope it just looked like I was making a messy garden. But when I was left alone, I practiced growing the iconic Brambles, or growing various plants from my doll. So far both actions have been failures. I did however learn how to distinguish who was near me by the feel of their Wakfu, and my doll can now even pick up things almost as heavy as I am and carry them without stumbling. But the first day that this schedule broke was four year later.

"Come on Rosey, I want everyone to see the dresses I made, they'll be so impressed!" Malia says happily, dragging me along, both of us wearing dresses she had made out of plants, hers with a knee length skirt, flowers arranged in a wide ring at the bottom with long red ribbon like petals poking out and curling up a good foot away from her, a green shoulderless top with a pink puffball on the front and topping it all off is a yellow hat with a pink and white, very leafy, flower and a red mushroom. An odd ensemble, but with remarkable craftsmanship for a seven year old. She decided that she wanted to make dresses good enough to be worn by the royal family, and therefore needed to start practicing. And being the good friend, not to mention lady in waiting, I had to help her and wear her second _masterpiece_. So I am bedecked in a blue skirt looking a bit like an upside down tulip, with a green layered thing over top of it, and a red shouldered top, with purple willowy like branches kinda looking like wings behind me. Again, strange looking, but not uncomfortable in make, but I really don't want to go out in public wearing this get up. Unfortunately, Malia made a royal request of me, so I couldn't refuse… at least I don't think I could.

So now I find myself standing next to Malia and behind green floral print fabric doors, a gaggle of people on the other side, waiting to see what Malia wanted to show them, and wanting nothing more then for the ground to swallow me up. "Is everyone ready?" Malia calls, getting a smattering of "Yes!" from the otherside of the door. She excitedly throws open the doors showing off her new dress with a flourish and a huge smile. I step out quietly behind, being sure not to take up any of her spotlight for two different reasons. Everyone around us, even the two guys that I'm nearly positive are homosexual, rain praise on Malia's taste and flare, tossing in a few comments about her generosity in making a beautiful dress for her lady in waiting as well. The attention, even second hand, causes my face to burn, and me to shuffle my feet. And then… "You look like a gobble." A female voice says suddenly. All sound stops as I get a look at the source of the comment. A taller blonde girl with freckles, pointed ears, and a brown layered skirt, a pink shirt, brown gloves and matching boots is standing front and center, a ring of empty space, her moss green eyes pulled up in… nervousness? Confusion? I'm not quite sure what I'm seeing. But when everyone starts laughing at her comment, my eyes are driven downward in mortification. "Aww, that's so cute Princess Gobbol and her friend the Purple Tofu." One of the audience says, before raucous laughter drowns out all other sounds. I turn to Malia and see her face as red as mine surely is, and without my consent a thick hedge sprouts from the ground, blocking sight of the crowd but doing nothing to stop the sound of laughter. Tears form in the corners of Malia's eyes as she turns and flees, her yellow hat falling to the ground behind her.

I find her in her room a little while after that, having had to fight the silly dress for a moment but deciding to keep the thing on to spare Malia's feelings a bit. I find her in equal parts sobbing and screaming into her pillow and stand a little ways away, here if she needs me, but not in her space if she doesn't.

Eventually she cries herself to sleep, just crumpling up where she sat as her breathing evens out. I walk closer, trying to shift her into a more comfortable sleeping position, It wouldn't do to for a princess to have a crick in her neck after all. And when she finally is resting on her side I draw the blanket up to her shoulders and turn to leave the room. "Rosey?" I hear sleepily behind me.

"Yes Malia?" I reply, turning around.

"Were the dresses really that bad?" She asks, her voice cracking. I stop and think before replying.  
"No, I don't think they were bad, maybe a bit too… excited." I say, her eyes growing wide and wet. "But, mine was really comfy, and the stitching didn't poke me, so you did a good job making them, they were just different from what everyone else is wearing." I, hopefully, reassure her. "Then why did that mean girl say I looked like a gobble?" She asks, her eyes hardening.

"Well… She looked like a Cra, they wear sensible and sleek clothing, we probably looked a bit strange to her." I say with a shrug. "Besides, her rudeness just means she doesn't get a dress made by a princess." I say, bowing as a grin split my face. Malia smiles back at me as her eyes droop. "Goodnight princess. I'll see you tomorrow." I say, slinking quietly out of the room.

The next day when Mom and I walk over to be ladies in waiting. I see that the blonde Cra is standing off to the side of the room, Malia giving her the cold shoulder and doing her absolute best to look anywhere _but_ at the older girl. "What's that about?" Mom whispers to me.

"Princess Amalia made dresses yesterday, and the Cra said something mean about them." I reply quietly as we approach. I walk closer to Malia after bowing to the Queen. As we leave the room I notice the Cra following us but decide not to bring it up, this is Evangelyne, Malia needs to be friends with her. Malia decides that today she wants to play Gobbowl, and my heart sinks a bit, I _h_ _ate_ the sport with a passion, but if the princess wants to play…

An hour later several other ladies in waiting, the Cra included, are assembled in the courtyard just outside the palace, with catching mitts and the silly looking ball. For most of the session I try my hardest to avoid the ball, or having to run after it, my laziness no longer staved off by boredom. As the game drags on, Malia obviously scoring several points by herself; wink wink, nudge nudge, my mind diggs around in my memories trying to recollect how Malia and Evangelyne made up, but drawing a blank as I collide with another lady in waiting and send us both sprawling, the Gobbowl ball just so happening to roll right in front of Malia.

A week goes by and Malia still refuses to speak to the Cra, even refusing to learn her name as of yet, simply getting me to ferry messages to and from "The Cra." Today Mom tells me that I'm to be on my better than best behavior, because important visitors from another nation are here to discuss with the King. deciding that doing anything to draw attention to myself in the presence of foreign nobles doesn't qualify as "better than best" I gently convince Malia to spending a quiet day in her room, after all grown ups can be boring and get irritated when children make too much noise. So the day was spent in her room, just Malia, me, and the Cra by the door. "But there's nothing to do in my room for a day." Malia whines, bored after the first hour.

"Are you sure? We could tell stories, or... " I say, ready to continue but stopped when Malia's eyes light up and she jumps onto her bed with a cheer.

"What kind of story?" She asks excitedly.

"Well, what kind do you want to hear? One about adventure, a scary story, maybe a tragedy?"

"A story with an adventure, and excitement around every turn!" Malia replies. I scan my memories of before, looking for anything that met her wish, checking anime, books, tv, heck even games I'd played. After a few moments of thinking. I decide to tell a revised version of one of my favourites, A story where hundreds of people were sent to a flying castle to live out adventures as their real bodies lay safe in bed, but after just a few hours the king of the land announced that they would stay in this land, until they reached the top of the castle, and if they were to die in this world, their body at home would die as well. Hours go by, with Malia hanging onto my every word, and out of the corner of my eye I even spot Eva watching me intently. When I get to Kirito standing beside a still comatose Asuna, they both have tears in their eyes and are waiting for her to wake up, but that is when Mom walks into the room and tells me it's time to head home for the night. "NOOO!" Both of them squak, with Eva slapping her hands over her mouth a moment later. "But, but, does she wake up, do they get to be together again?" Malia begs.

"I can continue the story again tomorrow if you want Princess. But Momma wants to go home, and I need to help her make dinner." I answer truthfully. Malia ducks her head in disappointment, but bids me a good night anyway.

The next day, I learn that Malia has come down with something, and the royal Eniripsa says its contagious. "Do you still want to stay with princess Amalia today Rosalee?" Mom asks, and I think on it. On the one hand, this would leave Eva and Malia alone, which would make them friends finally, but I also kinda want to spend time with them. In the end I decide to go in Anyway, and find them hugging at Malia's bed. "Did the two of you make up?" I ask a few moments later. They separate and spin to look at the new arrival and I notice that Eva has changed her pink shirt for her more normal black. "Rosey, you shouldn't be here either, you could get sick." Malia says worriedly.

"Ah, who cares about that. Besides, I thought you wanted to hear the rest of my story?" At the mention of yesterday's story both of them sit, Malia on her bed, and Eva on the floor as I began my tale. Remaking the story of Alfheim was a bit more difficult, but saying that Kirito's friend knew of a ship that would take him to a new land after rumors of a girl exactly like Asuna seemed to work. And both of them started cheering when Kirito went back to Asuna's room after defeating Sugou (a more pg friendly version anyway) and gave her a kiss earned me some applause before we were served lunch.

"Where did you come up with that story Rosey?" Malia asks after lunch.

"I don't know, it was just sitting in my head. Why?" I answer.

"Because I want to hear more stories, really good ones. Do you have any more "sitting in your head"?

"I think I can scrounge up a few more."

That night. Malia, Eva and I stay up late talking, with them trying to coax another story out of me, but darn it, it takes time to find a story that I can tell without heavy editing, and longer still to tell, so I manage to deflect long enough for us all to be tired. Mom was told I have to stay in this room, what with Malia being contagious, there was no way I hadn't caught what she has by now. So bed rolls are brought in for Eva and I to sleep on. As my eyes droop, curled up in a fluffy warm cocoon, I notice that the other two are already slightly snoring.

 _Malia, Eva and I lay quietly in our respective beds, my doll sitting next to Malia's on the foot of he bed. I turn away from the sight as the flow of life drags me out the window and into the open air. Passing the edge of town I find a small camp, people in metal suits sitting round a fire, passing around a flagon. Their words taken away by the veil of reality between us, I only get a clue of what their talking about when one points the way I had come. All at once the camp shatters into motion, people running to and fro and saddling up Dragoturkeys. I follow as the group surges through the town, silent despite the metal adorning their bodies. They steal into the Palace, tying down the guards in their path before splitting into groups, entering three specific rooms. The one housing the King and Queen, the Prince's, and Malia's. Fear forms in the pit of my stomach, and I fly passed them and into the room with the three sleeping female children, the door bursts open just as I crash into my body, trying for all I'm worth to take control again, but my body acts like a brick wall, refusing me reentry. Spinning, I see two men drawing close. I turn to my doll, reaching out to it in the hopes it will respond, to my terror it remains limp, leaned slightly against Malia's doll. I turn again to see the men stepping over my sleeping form, moving to Malia's bed side, a flash of reflected moonlight catches my eye as he withdraws his hand from his side. "Malia!" I scream silently to all in the room. The knife comes down in an arc, directed just below the smiling face of my friend…_

A horrible stench catches my attention as I fling out of the confines of my bedroll, thorny brambles shooting from beside me to snare the intruders, but only crashing into the walls as the faint purple miasma fades from before my eyes. The sound jolts Eva from her sleeping bag as well, her keen eyes searching the dark for a source. What…" She begins before the stench that had woken me likely assails her nose, causing her to turn green and double over, gagging. I turn my gaze away to the door, expecting to see it cracked open like before, but finding it whole and secure. "What's wrong Rosey?" Malia asks groggily, not yet noticing the spikey limb stretched a few feet above her head. She does a moment later and lets out a squeak. "Why are there Brambles in my room?" I sneak up the door, and open it slowly peeking out to find the guards still on patrol. A breath I didn't know I was holding spills out of me, carrying more of that putrid purple gas. I recoil in disgust, shutting the door and waving my hand in front of my face. "And why are breathing out Poison wind?" She continues, getting up from her bed and coaxing the brambles back, pushing them back under the ground and repairing the hole in the living floor. I slump against the door, trying not to breath out more gas as my heart rate slows back down. "Rosey?" Malia says, stooping down in front of me and trying to catch my eye. I look up and throw my arms around her, surprising her with an, admittedly tearful, hug.

"You're okay." I hear myself say, just letting the words pop out.

"Of course I am, other than being sick, why wouldn't I be?' She asks, pulling her head away to look at me askance.

"I thought… I thought someone had broken into the palace, I could see the knife." I explain, getting a strange look from both other girls. "But you were asleep… Oh were you having a float dream?" Malia says.

"I thought I was, but if it didn't happen it must have just been a bad dream." I say, letting go of Malia and slumping further against the door. "Amalia, what's she talking about, and what do you mean by "Floaty dream?" Eva says, confusing all over her face.

"Oh, you don't know how I met her?" Malia asks, getting a shaken head from the blonde Cra. "When we were three we met at the Tree of Life, but we were both dreaming at the time, and we played until we woke up. Both of us were having strange dreams where we could see the real world but, couldn't touch it. She keeps having them to avoid nightmares, I've only had a couple after that." The Cra just looks at me, her head tilted to the left slightly.

"Okay then…I have hear of Sadida getting strange dreams before... but what did you mean by knife?" Eva asks. Malia seems to remember my mentioning a knife as well and turns to look at me.

"I thought someone was going to kill Malia in her sleep… but like I said it was just a bad dream." I say. At least there was no fire. "Aww, your bad dreams are about me getting hurt." Malia gushes, wrapping me in a tight hug.

"Well, now that that's over, we should get back to sleep." Eva says, already moving back to her bed roll.

"Malia, how did you move my brambles so easily, and what did you say about poison wind?" I saw quietly.

"Oh, the brambles was easy, my tutors could have moved them without even touching them, and the Poison Wind is what my tutors call it when a Sadida breathes toxic pollen, yours was kind of weak by the way, Eva didn't even throw up, and it was her first time experiencing it." She rattles off like its nothing.

"Wait, your tutors, you have people teaching you combat magic?"

"Of course, I'm a princess, if my ladies in waiting can't protect me, I could be kidnapped or worse, so being able to protect myself was something Father thought I should be learning at a young age. I started 2 years ago. Your Brambles could use some work, but your better at the Poison Wind then I am, so at least there's that."

"You've been getting help learning this? I've been having to practice at home when no one is around." I huff.

"Oh, I thought Lissia or Urden would be teaching you by now. You should ask them about it." Malia says as she climbs into her bed, her doll pulling the covers up around her shoulders before flopping down at her side.

We stayed together for a week and a half with whatever kind of pox we had come down with. And when I got home I ask Mom to help me with my techniques.

"Why do you want to know sweetie?" She asks coolly.

"I had a nightmare where the princess got hurt and I couldn't do anything about it." I begin. "But when I woke up I was breathing out smelly purple gas, and Brambles were growing out of the ground and attacked the Princess's room." I explain, rushing the last part to hopefully gloss over my sudden endangering of royalty.

"So you want to learn to help protect the Princess?" She asks. I nod sharply. "Good, your father and I have been waiting for you to say that. You're not as sneaky in your practice as you think, I can feel when nature swirls around you in the evenings. But I'm impressed you were able to use Poison Wind at all, it's not a simple spell, not that many Sadida even bother learning it for that reason. Now, let's go find somewhere to see what you can do.

 **Yay, fourth chapter, and if I remember correctly, it's my longest yet. Sorry this took so long to come out, but at least Im back to it, though it may feel a bit rushed to some of you, I kinda want to get to Yugo's adventure, and squishing a few years into one chapter helps with that. Next time we'll be ending with Amalia's Prophetic vision and fleeing the palace for Emelka. You know the drill, Rate Review, what ever you can do. It's what gives me strength, and makes my day as I'm writing the next chapter.**

 *** (Not an endorsement, just what I'm having run through the character's head).**


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